Kid Fury’s Blog: My Letter To Kreayshawn
We should probably start this off with a discussion of your name. I’m not sure if your rap moniker is supposed to be some sort of ghetto play on the word “creation”, or if you just have a fascination with names that make substitute teachers sweat. However, I’m going to call you Julie. I know your birth name is Natassia, but you look like a Julie to me.
Anyway, I thought you should know that I’ve been quietly watching you cat-daddy your fifteen minutes away. You’re a very intriguing little character and I decided to observe you rummaging through hip-hop before I gave my honest opinion.
Truthfully, I think you’re cute…in a Salt-N-Pepa meets Casey Anthony sort of way. You have this Teen Vogue, trailer trash, hipster style about you and I think it’s adorable. You also direct music videos and have your own Caucasian clique, White Girl Mob, to help you write rhymes and egg houses or whatever the fuck y’all do.
That’s all well and good, but here’s the thing: you can’t rap, girl. You can’t. You’re horrible. You’re an utter musical disgrace. Stop.
I don’t believe you as a rapper. If you wanted to be a graffiti artist, a photographer, or a busser at Buffalo Wild Wings, I’d totally see that vision and support you. Rap music is not your tea. You seem like a young lady who enjoys government cheese and marijuana, and perhaps that led you to pursue a career in hip-hop out of sheer boredom and misplaced confidence. No, sis. Wrong move.
In terms of your friend V-Nasty and her comfort with using the word “nigga”, it doesn’t really offend me. I understand that some white babies are born into environments where that word is used in a friendly manner and there are no parents to shut them the hell up. However, I suggest you advise Ms. Nasty to cut it out, because there are Negroes who don’t give a sliver of a fuck and they will stomp all possible throats in.
Again, I enjoy your ratchet Teen Nick fashion and total disregard for anybody else’s feelings, but you ought to start looking into other careers. Maybe you could direct the Amber Rose/Wiz Latifah sex tape. Anything, but music.
Love, Kid Fury
P.S. Basic bitches don’t wear Gucci, Louis, Fendi, or Prada. They wear Baby Phat and Applebottoms.